“And Nurd, who had never had a mother and father, and who had never loved or been loved, marvelled at the ways in which feeling so wonderful could also leave one open to so much pain. In a strange way, he envied Samuel even that. He wanted to care about someone so much that it could hurt.”

“Rahul had wondered how someone could love their beloved so much that their dedication to them became one of the wonders of the world.”

“...I wondered why so much had been written about love's pain and so little about the glorious relief of being delivered from love's pain.”

“So this was love then—wanting to give only pleasure to the beloved; constantly searching your mind for love tokens that would bring a smile to her lips or a sparkle to her eyes. He deeply regretted it had come so late in life, but since his heart’s desire was Eleanor who was so much younger than he, it could have been no other way. He was grateful it had come at all.”

“Damn him. I could love. I had it all inside of me. If he knew so much about me, why couldn't he see that? If I didn't love him, how could it hurt so badly?”

“I feel despised there, for having so little money; also for once having had so much. I never actually had it, of course. Father had it, and then Richard. But money was imputed to me, the same way crimes are imputed to those who've simply been present at them.”